


Give It All 'Cause It's All You Got

by Andromytta



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Violence, F/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-20 21:48:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20682452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromytta/pseuds/Andromytta
Summary: After repeated patterns of domestic violence, Mary Winchester has finally had enough. She is going to be Free.





	Give It All 'Cause It's All You Got

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the Station Breaks' song Free. Written for the Louden Swain/Station Breaks Project.

_Give it all ‘cause it’s all you have._

_Tried so hard to complete your man._

_Tangled in a mangled life…_

_How many more black eyes?_

Lawrence, Kansas was where she lived, but it was never home, not really. Just a place her father dragged her and her mother when his job required it. Lawrence was the home of heartbreak, not of family. It seemed so innocuous and innocent at first, a place where Mary could really, finally be happy again.

In Lawrence, she met John Winchester. He knew every word to her favorite Led Zepplin songs. He was a strong man, a former marine, and with him by her side, Mary felt like she could finally escape her parents. Well, not her parents exactly, mostly her dad, Samuel. Samuel was a hard man, also a former soldier. Life with him was not easy, and Mary craved escape.

In Lawrence, shortly after Mary met John, Samuel snapped. He killed his wife Deanna before killing himself, shattering Mary in the process. Mary was grateful that she had John to lean on. Those first few years, John was great. They had two little boys, Dean and Sam, and were blissfully happy.

Then, the flashbacks started and John had started to drink. Familiar patterns repeated themselves, Mary remembered her psychology professor saying. Repeat themselves they did. The first time he hit Mary it was because the meatloaf came from Harris Teeter instead of Piggly Wiggly.

_You can smile, but you can’t hide._

_Cover up what you can’t disguise._

_All these years, you’ve been hypnotized._

_Now your spirit flies…_

He was apologetic. He was always apologetic. The hitting became more frequent with even less logical reasons, but John always apologized. When he was sober, he was a caring and compassionate man. Unfortunately, he was sober less and less of the time.

As long as Mary could protect her boys, everything was fine. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. As long as her boys were ok, everything was fine. Boys needed their father after all, right? Mary could justify staying until the end of time, as long as her boys were ok.

Mary’s moment of clarity, her bid for freedom, came when she had to step in between John and Dean. The boy was rolling his matchbox car along the freshly waxed floor and into John’s work boots. The man had just arrived home from work and was already reeking of whiskey. Mary stepped between them, receiving John’s fist to her jaw.

That night, after dinner, when John was on his nightly bar crawl, Mary made her decision. She packed what she needed into two suitcases, one for her and one for her boys. As she pulled the necessities out of her closet she found them, tucked deep into the corner. Her red cowboy boots. She hid them because John hated them. Now, now they were a sign of her freedom. She finally would be free.

_You can break the cycle._

_Flee the past._

_Get your boots and hit the gas._

_You’re coming home to Tennessee,_

_Coming home you’re free!_

Mary knew there was only one place she could go. Home, to Tennessee, to her grandmother’s home that always smelled of baked goods and safety. Her mother’s mother, where they always went when Samuel was on one of his rampages. The house stood empty with neglect, but Mary would restore it. When her grandmother passed, it went to her mother. Samuel wanted Deanna to sell it, but she clung to it like her own secret refuge, even though they hadn’t been there in years. After Deanna was killed, Mary clung to it herself. She knew she and her boys would be safe there. They’d make a new life for themselves.

Mary’s plans were thwarted when John came home much earlier than normal. He found her in their room, suitcases open on the bed, clothing spread everywhere. But Mary already had her boots on. Behind where her boots had been stood her shot gun, the one her father taught her how to use when he insisted she go hunting with him. He’d always wanted a son, and at times insisted on treating Mary like one. She’d become a decent shot too.

As John wrapped a fist into her blonde hair to pull her out of the closet, Mary’s hand managed to wrap around the shot gun. She whipped it around, knocking John off balance enough that he let go of her hair and stumbled to the ground. Looking him right in his eyes, Mary cocked the shot gun and filled his chest with buckshot. Blood pooled around him, and Mary smiled.

_No more dirty, blurry nights._

_No promises in the morning light._

_Gonna find your strength, look a little bit._

_It’s right where you left it._

Mary closed up the suitcases, collected her sleepy boys, and loaded everything into John’s Impala. Mary picked it out, Mary’s inheritance paid for it, it was her car in everything but name. Everything in Lawrence was in John’s name. It was time for Mary to take everything back.

_You can break the cycle._

_Flee the past._

_Get your boots, and hit the gas._

_Break the cycle, flee the past._

_Get your boots and kick some ass!_

_You’re coming home to Tennessee._

_You’re coming home, you’re free!_

When Mary pulled in front of the old farmhouse, she heaved a sigh of relief. As she unstrapped Dean and Sam from their car seats, Dean asked in his tiny, four year old voice, “Mommy, where are we?”

“We’re home, son, we’re home.” She said.


End file.
